Watching Yute

by Joseph Picard

  Briefly, the notion of his blade twisting in Cheryl’s gut forced its way into her mind. She grabbed her new silver pendant, and moved it slightly in her hand so that her ring scraped against it a little. She gave the pendant one gentle little kiss. “It’s time, baby.”

  She took the remaining steps one at a time. Go now, there’s no better plan but to do, or to die.

  She got to the bottom, and saw the Storms roaming around. No action, no captive. One of them walked up to her.

  “Sir.” By the voice, she knew it was Keith. “There’s no one here. There was not too long ago though.”

  “Damn. So what do we have, a hole in the ground?

  “No Sir. Well, yes Sir, but there’s a few interesting things in this hole. About a half dozen small arms, ranging from semis, to assault rifles. I got a close look at only one so far, but the serial was removed. The others as well, probably. They suggest illegal stuff, but... well, come on.”

  Keith waved Cassidy to follow, and led her toward one of the inner rooms. As they passed the other Storms, who were carefully searching around, she saw several Aguei themed decorations. Nothing as fancy as Armil’s office though. In comparison, these were tacky at best. Damaged posters of badly painted Aguei warriors, cheap wooden statuettes, a frayed and faded traditional rug.

  Keith stood back from a desk central to this room, and pointed his rifle at it. “Take a peek under there.”

  Cassidy walked around, and leaned over to see. There was a black mass about the size and shape of a pillow. No, that wasn’t right… she could only see the outline of the shape. It was so dark, there was no other detail to be seen, as if it were a hole in reality, showing only a void.

  She leaned side to side, and it was apparent that it was indeed an object, and not any kind of hole, yet from any angle, it revealed no details or depth.

  “What the hell?”

  “It’s totally dead to the I.R. vision.” Keith said.

  She turned the spear around, and poked it with the blunt back end. “Feels like… stiff cloth?” She held her breath and took off her mask. There weren’t even any lights on in the room. She put the mask back on. “Got a light?”

  Keith produced a small flat flashlight from his pocket, and handed it to Cassidy. She held her breath and took off her mask again before flipping on the light. The smoke hadn’t totally saturated this area, so the light reached almost all the way across the room.

  She aimed it at the mysterious object. Under regular light, its folds and texture were plainly visible. She reached down to feel it.

  “That’s… that’s his! He was wearing this when he came to the temple!”

  “Leave it!” Keith spoke into his comm.. “Everyone! Leave everything just as we found it! We’re getting out of here! Don’t forget to reset that door trap!”

  “What?”

  ~~~~~

  :::C /37

  ~~~~~

  Cipriana lagged behind the others on the walk back to base after a shift at the temple. She looked off to the horizon, and slowed to a standstill.

  She spoke to herself softly. “Yes, I can. Yes, I hope so. It would be very good to see her again. I’m still a little disappointed that we didn’t hear from her after Cheryl’s funeral. I know. I would call. No, you’re right, I should have.”

  She wondered if Marcus had these kinds of talks, and just didn’t let people see it. She knew that logically, she should be concerned. There was a ghost… or something, in her head. She knew quite logically that it wasn’t normal, and she should tell someone, like doctor Brock.

  She knew this, but decided not to, just as no one did anything when watches and other tech refused to work in the temple. Did she do nothing because the voice was reassuring, sounding like Marcus to her? Because it felt like being around Marcus? She considered that she was being controlled. And she didn’t really care.

  The ghost was harmless. The nanite system, whatever it is. It was far less of a threat than the A.R.A. had been, that was for sure. And it sounded like Marcus. It felt like Marcus.

  ~~~

  Cassidy stepped off the airlimb onto the familiar landing pad. She squinted her eyes in anticipation of a light sandy breeze that didn’t come. She never thought she’d miss the days when she got predictable doses of sand in her eyes.

  “Alright, Sir,” Keith said, “Colonel says we need to go restock, and Armil needs a ride later. We’ll be back as soon as that’s all done.”

  “Alright. Keep me posted if anything interesting happens.” She started walking down the path. Keith closed the bay door and the airlimb began lifting off.

  Ah, there was her sand in the eyes. Yeah, somehow it wasn’t quite as enjoyable as she had remembered.

  She looked towards the base. She didn’t feel like talking to anyone. To camp, then. At least for a while.

  The walk was slow. She was aware of each of her steps with intricate detail. Aware of the feeling, the texture, her lack of speed. The feel of the sand under her boots, the sunlight somehow dragging her along.

  She passed the stump carving of the statue's head. Such a silly thing to make. The wood was so old, but was holding up so well. How long until it finally began to rot?

  She was vividly aware of it all, but felt no control over any of it. So on she walked, with great efforts to think only of the tiny, unimportant details. Thinking in a loop. A small loop with no point.

  Almost to her surprise, she eventually reached the camp. Cheryl’s little graffiti wall greeted her. Wind had finally managed to push the tent over. With only a sliver more thought, she pulled the tent upright, re-planting the stakes.

  She crawled into the tent, and straightened out the two sleeping bags, which had been opened all the way and flattened into one double width ‘bed’. She dragged herself into it. All the little unimportant thoughts were pushed away to make room for one little idea. A scent.

  Cheryl’s scent had managed to linger between these covers, laying in wait to assault Cassidy now. It flowed through her, getting into her lungs, her mind, and whatever passed for a soul. It grabbed her, and ripped the tears from her eyes. She curled up with as much of the soft scented fabric as she could, and turned over, planning to cry herself to sleep.

  It was then that she felt that thing hanging on her hip again. With trembling breath, she reached down her thigh, slow, as if touching a lover for the first time. She undid her lover’s clothing, and pulled it forth slowly. This was not the first time she’d touched this lover, but they had not… consummated before.

  This lover was smooth. Efficient. She had spent so much time hating guns, when she should have been hating knives. Not as smooth. Not as efficient.

  How long did Cheryl have to feel the blade, and the wound it left, before she finally died? She looked closely at the gun. It wouldn’t help her appreciate Cheryl’s pain.

  But it was efficient.

  ~~~

  Maxine had seen the airlimb come and go. She looked forward to seeing Cassidy, but it could wait until she finished her exercises. Her usual routine with her wooden spear flowed as it always did. Of course, it had occurred to her many times that this was not terribly vigorous exercise, with little cardio benefit. It was almost more of a meditation. Cipriana found sitting on her bed in the lotus position to work, Maxine had this instead.

  It had evolved to a certain routine that hadn’t changed in a long, long time. She could do it without thinking. Once, she did it in a dream, but in the dream, she did it underwater, watched by a smiling fish named Hugo. She never figured out what Hugo was smiling about. He was creepy, but kind of frien-

  Crack! A distant single gunshot, coming from somewhere across the path. Without daring to wonder too much about it, Maxine gripped her spear with a single hand, tight against her forearm, and ran to the sound.

  She found the camp quickly, having poked her nose in that direction out of curiosity in the past. “Hello?!” She called out. No reply. The tent flap was open, and there were fresh footprints leading int
o it. “Cassidy…?” Maxine hesitated to go any closer.

  Cassidy’s voice came from inside the tent. “Hang on.” She didn’t sound quite right.

  “I heard a shot!” Maxine called back.

  “Um, yeah.” Cassidy crawled out, her hat pulled low over her eyes. She waved without making eye contact, and walked over to a piece of ruined stone wall about fifteen metres in front of the tent. She picked at a hole in it. A few loose bits of stone and a mangled bullet fell out.

  “You shot a wall? Was it sneaking up on you?”

  Cassidy giggled a little as she leaned over to pick up the bullet. “It was really quiet. I wouldn’t trust this wall as far as I can throw it.”

  Maxine strolled towards Cassidy. “Cass, you’re nuts.”

  “Nope.” She sniffled as she rolled the bullet around in her hand. “Nuts is my uncle Murray who drove around naked, because he heard that crash test dummies didn’t have clothes, so that must be safer.” She stuffed the bullet back into the hole.

  “What?!”

  “He was worried stuff like buttons in his shirt would get embedded in him in an accident, and stuff like that. Nightmares about what the metal teeth of his fly might do to him.” Her voice was becoming more like what Maxine would expect. She was still hiding her eyes under her hat though.

  “Will you give me a serious answer, please?”

  Cassidy giggled “Alright, alright, I don’t have an uncle Murray. It was me, and it was a giraffe ride in front of the supermarket.”

  “Cassidy!” Maxine grabbed Cassidy and forced her to make eye contact. Cassidy’s expression went blank, and her eyes confirmed Maxine’s suspicion that she had been crying hard. “Cass, do you care to tell me why you were shooting at a wall?”

  Cassidy shoved Maxine’s hands off, and turned away. “I never fired one before, alright? I wanted to get a feel for the recoil before I had to use it for real.”

  Maxine tilted her head. “You’ve been in the army how long, and you never fired a gun? What was your last posting, janitor? And what about basic training? For fuck’s sake, why did anyone even give you a gun without knowing you were sufficiently trained with it?”

  “Armil’s guys give me anything. And I cheated in basic.”

  Maxine was flabbergasted beyond words.

  Cassidy adjusted her hat, and shifted her weight. “Are we done here, officer?”

  “Idiot.” Maxine muttered. “You had lunch yet, idiot?”

  “Naw, I don’t-“

  “You’re coming to the mess with me for lunch, now, or I’m telling the den mother that you defiled the ruins.”

  “What?” Cassidy pointed at the damage. “It’s just a tiny little hole! On that wall over there, Cheryl painted that big-“ Her pointing hand tightened into a trembling fist. She stood there breathing deep, staring at the paint doodles, remembering watching Cheryl work on them.

  Maxine took her hand. “Cass. You really shouldn’t hang out here. Come on. Lunch.”

  The base was as it always was. Alan was passing by as Maxine and Cassidy entered.

  “Cass! Hey! Good to see you.” Alan’s voice changed slightly to a softer tone. How ya holdin’ up?”

  Crap, just the kind of question she thought she had escaped by ditching the wake. “Hey, Alan. Yeah, well, you know. Talk to you later, okay? I’m going to go eat.”

  “Yeah, okay. Well, good to see you.” Maybe he took the hint. Nah, he’s male. Maybe Maxine would explain it to him later. The two of them continued onto the mess, to find Wanda putting away a couple dishes.

  “Hey,” Maxine greeted casually, opening up the freezer to browse.

  “Hey Max- Cass! Oh! Hey, Cass, how are you doing?”

  Cassidy groaned quietly as she sat at one of the tables. “Hi, Wanda. I’m doing okay.”

  “The funeral, Cheryl’s funeral, how was it?”

  Maxine interrupted. “Cass, catch.” She tossed a couple of Alan’s famous cookies to her, and then held up a frozen dinner. “You like the ravioli one, right?”

  Cassidy brought her hand over her eyes, hoping it looked like she had a headache. “Yeah, Maxine. Thanks.” Thanks for nuking lunch for her, and thanks for cutting off Wanda’s line of questioning.

  Wanda paused. “Ah, well, if you two don’t mind, I just got off shift, and I kind of wanted to go pass out…”

  “Sure thing, Wanda. Good to see you too.” Wanda got the hint well enough, bless her heart. Wanda wandered off, and Maxine stuck two frozen dinners in the industrial microwave. “Well, I can see your reasoning for putting off coming back to base, Cass, but seriously. Not the camp, alright?”

  Before Maxine took two steps away from the microwave, Jim ran in, leaping onto the bench across from Cassidy.

  “Cass! My old partner! So much has happened, I just know there’s only been one thought on your mind!” Jim’s intensity and energy was overwhelming, and quite unlike him. “You’ve been racking your head, wondering ‘Gosh! What has Jim been doing ever since his big crush shrugged him off? Have they been able to make friends, or has Jim cursed his vile name quietly with every breath?’” He was being careful not to actually speak Karl’s name at such volumes..

  Cassidy tried hard not to smile. “You fuckhead.”

  “Not to be defeated, I asked him, I asked, ‘Do you have a gay brother?’ And do you know what he said? Ya know what he said to me? This’ll rip ya up Cass, it really will!“

  Taking a deep breath, pausing in appreciation of Jim shutting up for a second, she eventually replied, “No, Jim, I don’t know. What did he say to you?”

  Jim stood suddenly and dramatically, holding his hand up as if reciting Shakespeare. “’Jim’, he said, ‘I do have a gay brother, for you are a brother to me, and thusly forsooth, and yea verily, if you wanted to make love to my gay brother, you can go fuck yourself!’”

  Cassidy hit her head against the table, and stayed in that position. “Jim. Jim, Jim, Jim.” Head still face down on the table, she lifted an arm to point at him accusingly. “Love ya, fuckhead. Thanks.”

  Maxine shook her head. “Where did you come up with that?”

  Jim relaxed, and shrugged. “Based on real events. More or less.”

  Cassidy lifted her head and sighed. “Touching story, honestly.”

  “Well, I overheard Wanda, and figured…” Jim put his hand on Cassidy’s shoulder. “But you know we’re all here for ya, right?”

  She put her hand on his, and patted it. “Yeah.”

  When Jim left, Cassidy was finally able to eat in peace. Well, it wasn’t even her idea to eat, it was Maxine’s. Maxine was being quiet.

  Too quiet.

  She tried to read Maxine, but couldn’t get anything. “You must be good at poker.” Cassidy said.

  “Huh?”

  “Nevermind.” Another five minutes allowed Cassidy to slip into a false sense of security, until the stranger entered.

  “Leftenent Stanton?” The stranger was a woman, not that much older than Cassidy. She had brown hair, tied back in a braid, and she was dressed in civilian clothes; blue business casual.

  Cassidy turned her head to look at her. She looked a bit too… pleasant. She looked back over to Maxine. Maxine didn’t look surprised. This was an ambush.

  Maxine tilted her head and smiled softly. “She’s been talking with a lot of people who are having problems dealing with the attack. When I asked for a counselor to come, the brass said they were already lining it up.”

  Poking at lunch with her fork, Cassidy averted her eyes from both of them. “That’s nice.” Damn it. She didn’t think Maxine had been that serious about calling in a counselor. Maybe it’s like a lost dog. If you don’t feel it, it’ll go away.

  “Cassidy, do you mind if I call you Cassidy?” Damn, it didn’t go away. This was a targeted hit. “Would you like to go for a walk?”

  Cassidy sighed, and shook her head slowly, still looking into the remains of her lunch. “No, not really.”

  Maxine glanced at Cassid
y’s holster, then kicked her foot under the table, and not gently. “Go.”

  Cassidy pushed herself up, and stood. “Sir, yes Sir.” She walked to the door, leaving space for the counselor to walk beside her, which she did. Better to play along, than wind up in a straight jacket with an I.V. of happy juice, in a padded room. “So what do I call you, Dr. what?”

  “Just call me Karen. I’m not a psychiatrist, I’m a counselor.”

  They stepped into the daylight, and Cassidy decided on a walking route towards Maxine’s exercise yard, away from the camp. The last thing she wanted Karen to get talking about was the camp. It had almost turned into a private shrine to Cheryl's memory. “So, you’re a counselor. What does that mean?” Cassidy smirked, “You can’t prescribe drugs, can you?”

  Karen smirked back. “That’s true. If you’re concerned about my credentials,-“

  Cassidy put her hand up to stop her. “Nah, nah, I don’t care.” It’s not as if she’d be taking this talk any more seriously if she had a briefcase full of diplomas. “So, you talked to some of the others, huh?”

  “Yes. I made it known I was available, and those who wanted to talk, came to me. Maxine asked me to make it a point to see you.”

  Cassidy would have to ‘thank’ Maxine for that later. “Bet she aimed you at Cipriana, too, huh? How’d that go?”

  “Oh, I’m not allowed to talk about what others say in confidence.”

  “You don’t narc on people to superior officers? Isn't that your job, in essence?” Easy, Cassidy. Put the pit-bulls back on the leash. Give a small disarming chuckle.

  Karen took a moment to weigh the comment. “My main focus is to be of help on a one-on-one basis. The only time I repeat anything is if someone’s safety is at risk.” She lilted her voice in a similar disarming tactic, and to Cassidy, the game was on. A war of words, body language, tone of voice. A joke was in order.

  “Well, lock me up Doc, cuz I’m gonna give Maxine a beating for calling you down on me!” They both chuckled; Cassidy chuckled sincerely, Karen chuckled politely.